Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Still haven't read...

“I think he’s gay.” I threw a handful of
shelled peas into the bowl with more strength than I anticipated, and they
rolled back out the other side.

“Easy
there, turbo.” Lexie looked at me with raised eyebrows.

When I’d marched
into work three hours later than promised, she’d been ready to live up to her
redheaded reputation. I could practically smell the curse words in the air. But
one look at my blackened feet and sweat-soaked blouse, and her anger quickly
melted into amusement. Apparently riding a city bus back to work without shoes
or my blessed iPhone was punishment enough, and she’d promptly handed me a
water bottle. Now we were working into the evening to get ready for an event
the next day.

“You know, just
because a man doesn’t roll over and let you scratch his belly the minute you
look at him doesn’t make him gay,” Candace said, picking up the stray peas.

I raised an
eyebrow. “It wasn’t his belly I was planning on scratching.”

She was usually the
voice of reason between the three of us, mostly because she was the mother of
three kids and constantly broke up fights between the little buggers. But she
had the whole cooperation thing down pat, compared to Lexie and me. You see,
Lexie had only been married to Fletcher about a year, and she and her husband
had a blended family with two kids. The closest I’d ever been to an altar was
standing in as my mother’s maid-of-honor in her fourth wedding.

Or was that her sixth?
Oh, well. It didn’t really matter.

Usually at the
first sign of contention in a relationship, I was out the door, a habit Candace
had been trying to break me of for years. Especially when I dated Lexie’s
husband, Fletcher. Yeah. I dated Doctor Fletcher
Haybee before Lexie married him. It sounds weirder than it actually was. The
man wouldn’t lay a hand on me, because he was so obsessed with my waif-like
friend, and by the time we broke up, I was so sexually frustrated, I would’ve
made out with a bum.

I didn’t. But I
could have.

Lexie plopped
another basket of fresh sugar snap peas in front of me. “Maybe he just wasn’t
interested.”

“That never
happens.” I pointed an empty pod at her. When she smiled innocently at me over
her shoulder, I added, “Until Fletcher came along. Damn him.”She giggled. “He threw off
your mojo.”

Tossing a handful
of pods over my head, I groaned dramatically. I was good at dramatic. “He did!
Don’t you understand how frustrating that is?”